CHAPTER 5: The First Dinner

1179 Words
Maya's Pov I stood in front of my open suitcase like it held the answers to questions I didn't want to ask. What do you wear to dinner with your best friend's father when you're trying not to look like you're trying? The dress was too much. The sweatshirt was too casual. The blouse looked like I was trying to impress someone. I finally settled on a cashmere sweater in deep green and my nicest pair of jeans. Casual. Comfortable. The kind of thing anyone would wear to a family dinner. Except I spent way too long making sure my hair looked effortlessly perfect and my makeup looked like I wasn't wearing any. "This is ridiculous," I muttered to my reflection. But I still checked myself one more time before heading downstairs. I could hear voices from the dining room. Sophie's laugh. Jason's deeper tone. And underneath it all, Derek's voice. Quieter than the others but somehow filling more space. My pulse kicked up just hearing it. The dining room was warm and inviting. Candles on the table, fire crackling in the stone fireplace. Sophie had set everything up family-style, big dishes of pasta and salad arranged down the center of a huge wooden table. "Maya! Perfect timing." Sophie patted the chair next to her. "Sit here." I moved toward it, then realized where it was. Directly across from the head of the table. Where Derek sat. He looked up as I approached, and our eyes met. He'd changed into a dark blue henley that made his eyes look even more intense. His hair was still slightly damp. "Hope you're hungry," he said. "Sophie made enough to feed an army." "Maya, wine?" Sophie asked. "We have red and white." "Red's good," I said, sliding into my chair. Derek was right there. Right across from me. Close enough that if I stretched out my leg under the table, I'd probably hit his. I kept my legs carefully tucked under my chair. Jason dominated most of the conversation, talking about some deal at work. I tried to look interested, but I could feel Derek's presence like a physical thing. Every time I glanced up, he was there. Sometimes his eyes would drift to me, and I'd feel that same electric jolt from earlier. "So Maya," Melissa said. "Sophie says you're in marketing?" "Yeah. Digital marketing mostly." "She's being modest," Derek said. "Sophie showed me some of your campaigns. The one for that outdoor gear company was brilliant. The way you tied the product to environmental conservation. That's smart work." I stared at him. "You remember that?" "I pay attention." His eyes held mine. "When something's worth remembering." I took a long drink of wine. Sophie started talking about Christmas plans. Tree decorating tomorrow, cookie baking, skiing later in the week. I tried to focus on her. This was why I was here. But my eyes kept drifting back to Derek. The way his hands moved when he talked. The way he listened to Sophie with complete attention. The rare smile that transformed his whole face. Jason told some long, boring story about a client. Derek's eyes flicked to mine, just for a second, and something passed between us. A shared moment of this is painful, isn't it? I had to look away before I smiled. "Maya, can you pass the salt?" Sophie asked. I reached for it at the same moment Derek reached for the pepper shaker right next to it. Our hands brushed. It was barely a touch. Just his fingers grazing mine for a fraction of a second. But electricity shot through me so intense I actually gasped. I froze. So did he. For a moment, we just stayed like that, hands almost touching, both of us completely still. Then he pulled back like he'd been burned. "Sorry," he said, voice rougher than before. "No, my fault." I grabbed the salt with shaking hands. Derek stood up abruptly, his chair scraping. "Excuse me. Long day. Think I'm going to call it early." "Already?" Sophie looked disappointed. "You guys go ahead. I'll catch the next one." He looked at me, just for a second. "Maya, welcome. I'm glad you're here." Then he was gone, disappearing toward the stairs. I watched him go, seeing the tension in his shoulders, the way he moved just a little too fast. Like he was escaping. "He's been so weird lately," Sophie said. "Working too hard, probably." Melissa gave me a look I couldn't quite read. Like she'd seen something. After dinner, everyone migrated to the living room for a movie. I sat through thirty minutes before claiming exhaustion. Sophie hugged me goodnight. "I'm so happy you're here. This is going to be the best Christmas." The guilt was immediate and crushing. In my room, I changed into pajamas and tried to read. But I couldn't focus. My mind kept replaying that moment at dinner. The brush of his hand. The way he'd looked at me. At midnight, I gave up on sleep. I went to the window, looking out at the dark mountains. And then I saw it. Light spilling from the workshop window. A shadow moving inside. Derek. He couldn't sleep either. I watched his silhouette move around. Probably building something, working with his hands. I wondered if it was the same thing keeping him awake. My phone lit up on the nightstand, making me jump. It was Derek. "I can see your light on. Can't sleep either?" My heart stopped. He'd been watching my window. Just like I was watching his. I stared at the message, hands shaking. This was crossing a line. Texting at midnight, admitting we were awake and thinking about each other. I should say something innocent. Instead, my thumbs moved on their own. "No. Too much on my mind." The response came immediately. "Me too." Two words. But they felt like a confession. I typed: "What are you working on?" "Something for Sophie. Christmas gift. What are you thinking about?" You, I wanted to type. I'm thinking about you and how wrong this is and how I can't seem to stop. But I typed: "Just adjusting to being here. It's beautiful." "It is now." I stared at those words. It is now. Since I arrived. This was bad. This was so, so bad. "I should try to sleep," I typed. "Big day tomorrow." "Yeah. Me too. Goodnight, Maya." "Goodnight." I set the phone down and looked back at the workshop. The light was still on, but Derek was standing at the window now. I could see his outline clearly. Looking up. At my window. At me. We stayed like that for a long moment. Too far apart to see details, but close enough to know we were both there. Both awake. Both feeling this thing neither of us should be feeling. Finally, the workshop light went out. I climbed into bed, heart still racing. Two weeks, I'd thought I could handle it. But we were only on day one. And I was already in way over my head.
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